Bushwhacked
by wordlings
Summary: AU where Simon comes home from college and finds out his schizophrenic baby sister is in a fight club. 2-shot; Simon centric. T for mentions of violence.


Thank you in advance for reading! I honestly have no idea what this is or why it is? I just really like writing sibling stuff and Simon/River is the best sibling stuff. Started off a little crackish for laughs then turned slightly angsty. Anyway, hope you enjoy.

P.s everyone still uses chinese because in my head they live in a city where chinese is the second primary language. It's the future but modern day? Idk take it how you see it.

lao tian: jesus

ai ya: dang/ugh/the equivalent of a sigh

fuh luh: trash/garbage

6,107 words. Unbeta'd, so please alert me to any mistakes! Thanks :-3

* * *

Bushwhacked.

If someone told Simon that coming home to visit his family would land him outside a dive bar standing head to head with a man-ape, he probably would have taken the time to thoroughly chew out his parents before arriving.

God, his parents. River had been refusing to attend her tutoring and therapy sessions for months, which wasn't strictly speaking a surprise, but upon arrival Simon was shocked to find that she had also _run away from home_. They failed to mention that part, and wouldn't elaborate on how it managed to happen right under their noses ("Well how are we supposed to keep track of her? That was always your department, Simon!"). His unstable little sister disappearing was enough to re-convince Simon of a few things: a) he should move back home ASAP, b) his little sister needs a collar, and c) he has terrible parents.

So, after some desperate phone calls and cash changing hands, here he is, standing outside the SERENITY BAR (the R flickering and Y completely dead, respectively); it was, as one might expect, a super classy place, judging by the hired help. The big Man-Ape was the muscle at the door keeping the riff-raff out, which apparently Simon counted as, being the only person there in a turtleneck and dress pants.

"Look, whatever your name is, I need to get in. My sister is in there!"

"An' I tol' you there's too many! Ain't nun gettin' in till someone else comes out!" The Man-Ape growls.

Simon rubs his hands over his face in frustration. The place is hardly packed, but Simon wasn't interested in staying anyway. "If you would just let me in, I could actually remove someone, therefore making more space."

The Man-Ape sneers at him. "Nice try, fancy pants. Why don' you hit up some fancier joint? This ain't the place fer you."

"I just want to get to my sister"

"Sorry," the Man-Ape chuckles nastily.

Just then, through the window, Simon sees a flash of pale skin and too-wide brown eyes. He takes a frantic step forward, running right into the mass of muscle that insists on blocking his path.

"There she is! River! That's my sister!"

"Move back! I said get!" The Man-Ape grapples with Simon, pushing him back forcefully.

"No I have to-River! River! Oof"

Simon flies back on the sidewalk, the Man-Ape looming over him threateningly. He groans, trying to sit up just as another person joins the party.

"What's goin' on? Jayne, what'd you do?"

"Jus' dealin' with an unruly patron, lil Kaylee. Don't need your fussin'," he grumbles.

The woman puts her hands on her hips and tsks, then holds out a hand to Simon."Were you here to drink or watch the show?" She asks.

"There ain't room," The Man-Ape...Jayne? barks.

"Stop tellin' people that!"

Jayne sniffs. "He looks like a fed"

Kaylee sizes him up, and for some reason this makes Simon feel very self-conscious.

"He ain't no fed, stupid. If you're here for the fight there's plenty of room. Gotta hurry though."

Simon wants to ask what in the world these people are talking about, but remembers his purpose. "No, no I'm not here for...any of that. I'm here for my sister"

Kaylee tilts her head to one side. "Sister? Who's your sister?"

"Her name is River, she's 17 and I'm positive I saw her through the window..."

Simon pauses uncertainly, because for some reason while he was talking this Kaylee began to smile, very widely and brightly. It's confusing, and also stunning, and doing funny things to the pace of his heart. What was he saying?

"You're Simon!" she squeals in delight.

"Uh, yes."

"Oh! Oh! She's going to be so happy! She always, always talks about you"

Simon warily glances at the Ape-Man Jayne, who only smirks at him in a non-comforting way. "Excuse me, I don't understand. Are you...are you implying that my little sister is a regular here?"

"Regular? Heh," Ape-Man Jayne snorts, and Kaylee drives her elbow into his midsection.

"You're in for a real treat," she gushes. If Simon wasn't beginning to have a heart-attack, he would marvel at the stars in her eyes. "C'mon, it's about to start."

She grabs his hand and drags him past the door and through the bar. The first thing Simon notices is a man in a blindingly colorful shirt behind the bar, mixing drinks while simultaneously holding a conversation with everyone sitting in front of him and...were those plastic dinosaurs? Despite the run-down exterior, inside it isn't bad; the lighting could be better, but it's homey, and rustic, and seems nothing like what a 'dive' is supposed to be.

Kaylee turns down a hall, still dragging Simon along, and they run into a tall, beautiful dark-skinned woman. "Kaylee," she greets, but her dark eyes are on Simon in a very intimidating fashion.

"Hey Zoe, this is Simon. Simon Tam."

Zoe raises an eyebrow, which Simon interprets as shock. "Well, tonight should be interesting"

Should be? This is already beyond my definition of interesting, Simon wanted to say, but she's already gone and Kaylee is back to dragging him along. They eventually meet some narrow stairs and she's forced to release him and he's forced to follow. The farther down they go the louder and darker it gets. He can't decipher what he's hearing, but it sounds like cheering and shouting and...

"Was that a gong?" Simon asks, incredulous, just as they reach the basement.

There's a door, which Kaylee unlocks with a key. Simon walks in behind her into a brightly lit room, filled with the deafening roar of enthusiastic patrons. In the center of this room is a large, square mat, and in the center of this mat is a very large man, holding his sister down.

"Welcome to Bushwhacked night," Kaylee shouts over the din.

Simon's mind stutters to a halt. Blood pounds loudly in his ears. _What in gods name is_ _this?_

"You alright, Simon?"

He is definitely not alright seeing as his little sister is on the ground trapped beneath a man twice her size. He moves forward, frantically pushing through the people crowded around, shouting out, "River! River! River!"

Simon stumbles, jostling a patron who is none too happy to have another man falling all over him. The situation quickly turns into a game of let's shove Simon around (a game that he thought he'd abandoned to his childhood bullies), until he's spat out from the mouth of the crowd, sprawled a few feet from the mat.

The floor is cold and smells like sweat and blood. Simon almost gags because, oh, yeah, that was definitely dried blood smeared underneath his hand. It's laughable really that, outside of medical situations, Simon has absolutely no stomach. As if the universe is highly aware of that fact, an unconscious broot falls flat in front of Simon's face with a sickening thud, spraying an impressive amount of blood and saliva on his way down.

Simon yelps, scrambling backwards onto his rear and accidently hitting the unconscious man in the head with his shoe. The crowd goes from loud to uproarious in a millisecond, and it takes Simon almost that long to realize that the unconscious man had moments ago been very awake and very much on top of his sister about to punch her.

A man in a brown coat steps onto the mat and holds up River's arm in triumph as the crowd chants, "Tross, Tross, Tross, Tross!"

Tross? All Simon can see is his little sister, 90 pounds wet, standing in the middle of the mat grinning like she'd just danced her best nutcracker. Except instead of sporting a tutu covered in glitter with her hair all done up in a bun, a la Simon's many scrap book pictures, she's sweaty, and bloody, and standing over a possibly concussed man like some sort of warrior goddess.

Simon openly gapes. _This must be what going mad feels like._

He blinks a couple times, just in case it's a hallucination caused by stress, and then that girl Kaylee is suddenly in front of him again looking concerned.

"Are you ok?" He thinks she's asking. It's still so loud, so he firmly shakes his head no, because no, nothing about this is ok. Nothing about this even makes sense. She tilts her head, looking equal parts sympathetic and amused, before offering her hand to help him up.

Once he's on his feet again, he can see the man in the brown coat circling the room with a box. The man is smiling smugly as hand after unwilling hand drops in cash to the tin. The man-ape, who had at some point migrated down, is roughly hoisting the unconscious man off the mat with help from patrons. And River...is staring straight at him.

Simon jolts, which is silly, because she's the one being caught. She doesn't look scared though, only a little confused, and then he suddenly has an arm-full of sweaty little sister. "Simon!" she hollers into his ear, her sweaty ponytail slapping him right between the eyes. "You found me! You came!"

"River! What is this? What is going on? Are you ok? We need to get out of here!"

River pulls away, her eyes bright and wide and surprisingly clear for a girl who normally has fits of paranoia. She gestures for him to follow her and merrily skips out of another door opposite from where he came, into an adjoining hallway with a staircase.

"River wait! Where are you going? River!"

She leads him up two flights that leave him embarrassingly winded, into another hallway that has multiple doors, finally to stand proudly in front of a door emblazoned with ALBATROSS on a piece of duct tape.

Simon stares at it dumbly. "River, what..."

"Mine," River states matter-of-factly, opening the door and sauntering in.

Simon follows closely. The first thing he notices is that it is a laundry room, because there's a washer and dryer and a shelf stacked with detergent. It's not even the size of her closet at home, and a tiny cot-like bed is set up between one of the four walls and the drier. There's also a sink, and a squared, jagged piece of glass placed above it that Simon thinks is probably the remnants of an actual mirror. It takes him 2 glances back and forth to see all this, and 2 seconds to become (rationally) angry about it.

It's his medical opinion that he's experiencing some form of shock from the events he's just witnessed, so he takes a deep breath before speaking because if he doesn't he'll be shouting and he can't shout at River, not ever.

"River, please explain to me what is going on-wait, are you _hurt_? Let me look at you."

She's settled onto her cot-bed like a cat, and it creaks under Simon's weight. He probes the large purpling bruise on her shoulder, gently checking for any serious damage.

River giggles and swats at him. "No surgery needed, Doctor Simon."

Her smile makes him smile, even if it is uneasy. "I just want to make sure you're alright. I think you'll ache for a while."

"The girl will heal. None of her blood spilled today."

Simon cringes."That's...not very consoling."

"Always worrying. You'll get lines," she affectionately smooths his forehead.

"It's my job," he replies without hesitation.

River's smile wanes until she's frowning. Her hand rests on his cheek, thumb on his cheekbone. He must have a scrape there because it stings horribly. River looks like she's going to cry.

"Mei mei? Are you in pain?"

"Didn't think you would…" she pauses, lip quivering.

"Didn't think I would what?" He gently takes River's hands in his, squeezing them and running his thumbs over her bruised knuckles. "River?"

She shakes her head. The frown explodes into a grin and suddenly she's up, moving about her tiny space like a charged atom. "Did you see me? Did you see me dance?"

Simon pictures the crowded room full of frenzied patrons, the bloodied face of the man hitting the cold floor, and is horrified all over again. "What happened down there...however it is you managed to do it...isn't the same as dancing. You know that, don't you River?"

She lifts her brow at him condescendingly. "Know it's not the same. Simile. Metaphor. Tells a tale. Took him down, quick. Easy. Like a surgeon. Never flinched. Precise."

"Surgeons heal people, not hurt them," he says as firmly as he can.

"Hurt, heal, hand in hand, two by two," she sing-songs, and then keeps saying it, over and over.

Simon rises slowly, keeping eye contact with her whenever hers skitter back to him. She's rapidly ascending into a manic phase, which is always closely followed by hysteria, so Simon keeps his hands at his sides, his posture open, and his movements slow. If he scares her, she might run and jump out a window, or God knows.

She snorts at him, rolling her eyes. "Know what you're doing. I can see. Thinks the girl has...has gotten crazy. Standing the way they teach you to stand when the crazy comes. Keep her calm they tell you."

She's always been far too smart for her own good, but Simon has never let it intimidate him. He can't afford to. "I just want to take you back home, mei mei. That's all that's important to me right now."

"What's important. Simon says: what's important. Did you ask me what's important? Did they ask? Whose important, what's important, who, who, what, what, they pick and choose but you can't just decide what is and isn't anymore!"

Simon takes a tentative step forward. "Let's go home."

"This is home."

"No River, this is a laundry room."

River moves past him to the sink, turning on the water full force so that it splashes all over the sides and onto her feet. She grabs a towel off the shelf of detergents and begins washing the dried sweat and droplets of blood off of her face and arms. When she is done washing, she strips off her shirt and pants and dumps them into the washing machine, putting in a cap-full of detergent, bleach, and some mystery liquid before setting it on 'HOT' and shutting the lid.

As the machine begins to whir, River turns back to Simon as free as the day she was born. Simon remains calm. Many of River's premedication fits wound up with her in her birthday suit, or upside down in precariously high places. Sometimes both.

What was concerning, however, was the unhealthy protrusion of her ribs. She knows if she doesn't eat she cant take her medicine.

Simon shrugs out of his jacket and holds it out to her. "You're going to catch a chill in this drafty place."

"Simon says: Put clothes on River. Simon says: Take your medicine. Simon says: I can leave but mei mei must go home."

"River how long has it been since you stopped taking your medication?"

"Doesn't matter."

"It does matter, mei mei. You ran away from home."

"Doesn't matter! Doesn't work!"

"River-"

"Dress me up like a gorram doll! Can't _think_ make me _sleep_ "

"I can't help if I don't know. I want to help."

River groans, throwing up her hands, "No, no, no, no!"

"River, please listen to me, it's only going to get worse if you-"

"Simon _you're_ not listening!"

"Hey, what's all this commotion going on-ah, whoa, hey, Tross, uh..." The man in the brown coat turns his eyes to the floor, his face screwed up in a grimace. He waves his hand pathetically. "Uh, just came to check on ya, heard your brother was here and uh...why are you naked?"

"Protesting," she replies petulantly.

The man in the brown coat nods, training his eyes on Simon. "Alright, not sure I get it but uh...alright." He sticks out his hand. "Malcolm Reynolds, call me Mal. You must be Simon."

Simon looks at the man's hand while settling his jacket around a resistant River. "Yes. I came here to get my sister."

Mal eyes him and drops his hand. "I see. And I'm assumin' this is the...subject of her protest."

"Sir," Simon begins, because he's reflexively polite and the guy looks at least 10 years older. "My sister is very ill, and I'm not sure how or why she got involved with your establishment, but I need to take her home. Now."

"Ah," Mal nods, eyes skittering over to River and back down again hastily. "Christ, Tross put some clothes on, would ya darlin'?"

Simon looks at his jacket now pooled at her feet and sighs in exasperation. "River…"

"If I do he'll take me!"

"No one's takin' anyone anywhere," Mal replies, way too confidently for Simon's liking.

"Excuse me, but I am taking my sister, and it's not open for discussion," he tacks on the last part while giving River a very stern look. She's too busy pulling clothes out of a hamper to see, but Simon is sure that she would've stuck out her tongue.

"Say, why don't we uh, let Tross get herself presentable and discuss this downstairs over a drink? It's closing time anyhow," Mal says.

"I'm sorry, I don't feel comfortable leaving River alone in this state."

"Girl is more than capable of dressing herself, I'd think."

Simon sucks in a large breath and folds his arms, shoulders drawn back and chest puffed out. He's seen his father strike the same pose a million times to intimidate other businessmen. He doesn't expect to intimidate, but the pose makes him feel more in control of the situation. "Regardless, there's nothing to discuss. I'm taking River with me...and I'd like to do so quietly without getting any authorities involved, if I can."

Mal's eyebrows rise high up on his head, but he looks more amused than intimidated. "No discussion then. Just a drink between acquaintances while the lady makes herself presentable."

 **.**

They descend another hidden flight of stairs into the empty bar. Simon can't fathom how the squat building fits so many secret doorways and passages, but something tells him that the man he's about to have a drink with is not exactly...normal.

"Wash! Give us two Crazy Ivans"

The blonde man in the loud shirt gives a mock "Aye aye, captain!" as Mal plops onto a bar stool and Simon hesitantly follows suit.

The so-called 'captain' turns sideways and smiles. "How old are you, son? Wait, don't tell me...20?"

Simon usually likes that question, because it's followed by praise for his accomplishments. Right then, under Mal's gaze, all he feels is defensive and, for once, every bit the kid he tries so hard not to look like."I'm 23"

Mal whistles, sharing an amused look with the loud-shirted bartender as he sets their drinks in front of them. "You hear that Wash? Same age as our Kaylee, but don't look a day over 17. _Lao Tian_ ," Mal says, then takes a swig of his curiously grey colored drink.

"Ah, I remember my 20's," Wash sighs wistfully. "Well, I don't really remember because I was either drunk or high most of the time, but I remember a ton of pleasant shapes and colors…"

"23 is a good age," Mal continues. "Course, round then we tend to think we know everything…"

"And that we're invincible," Wash agrees with a snort.

"And that the world is one way, when the reality's different"

"Sounds like you on a good day, sir." The serious looking woman, Zoe, appears behind Simon so silently that he startles in his seat. She doesn't acknowledge his fright, or him at all really, but Mal barely contains a snort.

"You're a bit jumpy Simon. Drink, relax."

Simon only tenses up further. "I'd rather not. I have to drive River and I home, and I don't want to risk it."

There. Let him know Simon hasn't gotten off task or changed his mind.

Zoe unceremoniously sweeps Simon's drink from in front of him and brings it to her lips. "River goin' home?"

Mal smiles that amused smile again. "Seems to be the notion."

"She ok with that?"

It takes Simon a second to realize the question was addressed to him. "Excuse me?"

"Simple enough question," Zoe replies, taking a seat behind Mal.

Simon frowns, wary of her implications and downright weary of the whole night. "She will be, once we're home. She needs to be with her family."

"Way she tells it, there ain't much family to be with, 'sides you," Mal says.

Simon blinks, embarrassment making him flush with anger. "That isn't any of your business," he snaps.

"S'pose not," Mal replies placatingly. He still has that stupidly amused smile on his face, and it's really making Simon want to punch him in it. "All I'm saying is I haven't seen any police or the like out lookin' for her. Makes sense...fancy family like yours."

Simon can't argue. His parents are more concerned with their reputation than their own daughter; it's disgusting, and embarrassing, but what right did this Malcolm Reynolds character have to comment on it? Simon's fists clench. "Whatever issues my _fancy family_ has, I've always taken care of River and I always will."

"You're a good brother," Mal agrees.

"Yet you want me to leave her here," Simon scoffs.

"Never said that. Girl came here on her own, no one's keepin' her. Just think you should listen to her side, is all."

"Her side? Oh, you mean the side that involves falling in with low-lives and fighting grown men in a basement of a dingy, fuh-luh bar? Not to mention living in a laundry room the size of a closet, with, what, 2 pairs of clothes? Is that the side I'm supposed to listen to and accept?"

Mal makes a noise of protest. "Hey, now. This here is a respectable establishment. Right Zoe?"

"If you say so, sir"

"Wash?"

"The word respectable is such a varied and broad term…"

Simon abruptly stands up, his bar stool screeching against the floor. "This is a waste of time. I'm getting my sister, and we're leaving."

He turns on his heel and immediately meets the eyes of that girl, Kaylee, halfway down the other end of the bar. The look on her face is so stricken it makes Simon stop in his tracks.

"Dingy? _Fuh luh_?" She says, her tone icy.

"I'm sorry, I don't…?"

"That's what you called Serenity. Dingy, and fuh luh. Somewhere only low lives would work."

Simon opens and closes his mouth. Oh. Yes, yes he had just said that. He awkwardly puts his hands on his hips, eyes skittering from hers and back nervously. "Uh. I, I didn't...um. That's not what I meant I was just..."

"You were just being mean, is what you were being," she snaps and then storms out of the room. Simon is watching her go in helpless confusion when the Man-Ape Jayne enters the room. He none-too-gently bumps into Simon as he passes, stumbling the younger man back onto his bar stool.

"What's got Kaylee's panties in a bunch?"

Mal clears his throat to keep from laughing outright. "Nevermind that. Where's River?"

"In her bunk, sleepin' like the dead. Wash gimme a Vera!"

Simon's brain does a needle jump. "What did you just say?"

"Oh no, no Simon you do not want a Vera. It's not fit for man or beast," Wash says sagely. "We use it to get blood stains out!"

Simon shakes his head, eyes on Jayne. "No, what did you just say about River?"

"I said your moon brained sister is sleep," Jayne replies around a mouthful of peanuts, crushing the shells onto the clean counter. Wash tsks loudly and slaps him with his dish rag.

"Ow! You wanna go little man?"

"Only if it's someplace with candlelight"

"Somethin' the matter, doc?" Mal asks.

"No, I...it's only that..." Simon pauses. It's only the fact that River hasn't had a full night's sleep since she was 14 years old. Nightmares, screaming, cold sweats and tears, that's the stuff River Tam's nights were made of. The River that Simon knows can't even take naps, for fear of the nightmares, and gets so anxious at bedtime she vomits. The River he knows can't 'sleep like the dead' until she has pills that knock her out.

Simon mentally shifts from concerned brother to doctor-in-training. "Has my sister been taking any medication since coming here?"

"Never seen any with her."

"What are her sleeping patterns?"

Mal blinks and scratches his temple. "Sleeping patterns?"

"How and where has she been sleeping? For how long? Is there anything abnormal?"

"Well that's hard to answer 'cause your sister ain't exactly what I'd call normal."

"She sleeps through the night, for the most part," Zoe supplies helpfully. "I've caught her wandering around before, but quiet like. She likes to come sit at the bar. Falls asleep on it a lot. We let her be, and she's always gone back to her room before we open."

"Has she been experiencing any nightmares?"

"Not to my knowledge," Zoe says.

"'Course trying to wake her up was a near death wish when she first came. She can still be mighty skittish when she wants to be," Mal tacks on. "Got Jayne good with a kitchen knife under her pillow, once."

"A...kitchen knife under her pillow," Simon repeats. Okay. That definitely answered his next question about paranoia.

"Weren't ours. She must've brought it with her."

"Should'a got rid 'o her then," Jayne grumbles and rubs at his chest agitatedly.

"First time I saw her she was asleep right on this bar," Wash smiles, tapping his knuckles against the wood. "I thought she must need the rest so I didn't bother her, thank God. Hey, you should tell him the story Mal."

"Should I?"

"What story?" Simon looks from face to face warily.

"S'bout 4 months ago, your little sister wandered in. Now normally I'd've been around to intercept her, or Jayne, but we were preoccupied with a...business transaction, at the time. Anyhow, she'd been gliding around a while, as is her way, bein' a mite strange but not bothersome, when a bar fight broke out. Big commotion, you know. And wouldn't you know it, by the time Jayne and I made it over, one was unconscious and the other bleedin' somethin' awful from his face. And there was lil Tross. She was cradling her hand, broke it bustin' the guys nose." Mal shakes his head like he still can't believe it.

Wash waves his hands around, "She spooked like a wild horse, punched one, and high kicked the other in the throat!"

Zoe nods. "Girl has had some kind of training, that's a fact."

"Jayne tried to grab at her too, and she swiped him with a bottle tray. Our muscle getting taken down by a 90 pound girl; I don't think i'll ever get that image outta my head," Wash cackles.

"I was caught off guard," Jayne sneers.

"Isn't your job to be on guard?"

"Hard to remember to do 'round Tross, way she looks," Mal says. Jayne grunts and Zoe nods in agreement.

Simon shakes his head, bewildered. Who is this crazy, she-demon they keep referring to as 'Tross'? Who was this girl who ran away from home, who actually sleeps through the night on the countertop of a dingy bar? Who are these people who took her in?

More importantly, _why_ had they? He accidently asks this out loud, and they all look at him with identical expressions of thought. Except for Jayne. He mumbles something about having no say in the matter.

Mal scratches at his chin. "Uh, well with her hand the way it was, didn't seem right to kick her out."

Simon doesn't buy it. "You could have called an ambulance, or administered first aid and then sent her home. That doesn't explain why she's been sleeping here for months in a room with her name on it."

Mal shares a look with Zoe. The bartender very meticulously rearranges his plastic dinosaurs on the countertop. Jayne rolls his eyes and announces, "I'll be in my bunk," before lumbering out.

"Why did you do it?" Simon prompts. "Was it the money? Seems you got a nice profit off that...show downstairs."

Mal, for the first time, looks completely serious. Simon would even dare to say insulted. "Could've hit up those rich parents of yours were that the case."

"Fighting was River's idea," Zoe adds. Simon doesn't let that sink in just yet; he files it away for later, and focuses back on Mal.

"Then what? What made you take in a teenage girl you don't even know?"

Mal shifts uncomfortably on his stool, his jaw ticking. "Girl came in lookin' like somebody's ghost and fell asleep on my counter. What was I 'sposed to do?"

"Call the police, try to find out who she belongs to, for a start. That's what any normal person would have done, especially after she broke a man's nose."

"Yeah she did a bit, but he wasn't exactly a likeable character."

Simon stares incredulously at the so-called captain. "You do realize nothing you've said has answered my question, or fit any sort of conventional logic."

"That's kinda his thing," Wash interjects. Mal makes an affronted noise but doesn't deny it, and Zoe tries in vain to hide a smile.

"Look!" Mal starts loudly. "Your sister, she...she jus' seemed to need some lookin' after, is all." He clears his throat. "Anyway it's all done now. She says you're studyin' to be a surgeon. That right?"

Simon decides to let the obvious subject change slide, for the moment. "Yes, that's right."

"Lot of schoolin' for that."

"Yes. It's been almost 3 years."

"Was Tross always so...well," he makes some whimsical gestures around his head.

"Yes...an-and no. Since I left home River has...well she's never run away to become a street fighter before, so i'd say this particular incident is unprecedented. But her mental state has steadily gotten worse since my first year at MedAcad and I thought with steady medication and therapy she would get better but…"

Simon stops, aware that he's begun thinking out loud. He has a clear memory of a 14 year old River, waving at him in the airport, happy and young and carefree, sending him off with a 'don't be a boob' and a teasing grin. As the next 2 years went by, that girl began to fade into, what had Mal called her? ' _Someone's ghost_ '.

"Meds ain't always the answer. No offense doc, respect your profession, but there's a reason it's called a practice. Got to get the right of a thing, 'fore you can fix it," Mal says, but his tone isn't unkind, just matter-of-fact.

"Then what is the 'right of it'? If you know," Simon tries to affect the same nonchalance in his tone, but he stills winds up sounding frustrated and petulant.

"Now that's a question for your sister, i think," Mal replies.

Simon sighs. "When terms like bipolar and schizophrenic are being thrown around and written on official documents and prescriptions, you don't tend to ask the patient why they do the things they do."

"Well, guess the real question is, is she your patient or your sister?"

Those words cut straight to Simon's heart.

"Iffin you do decide to ask, the morning is preferable, when she's less likely to kill you," Zoe adds with a smirk and stands from her stool. She tilts her head at the bartender. "C'mon husband. Time for bed"

The bartender makes a sad face, having been very preoccupied with his toy dinosaurs; he emerges from behind the bar and puts his arm comfortably around Zoe's waist. "Goodnight Captain, my captain. Simon."

The two disappear into the hall. Simon can hear them descending somewhere, and wonders again at the hidden enormity of this "Serenity Bar". A place with this much space must be noisy at night, with creaking floors and beams and wind whistling through empty corridors; perhaps it's a natural lullaby to River, who is used to the almost stifling stillness of large, immaculate houses behind gates. Maybe it's the whir of the washing machine that soothes her. Or perhaps she's just so tired from knocking out a grown man?

Simon frowns, shaking his head to rid it of unhelpful thoughts. He should just be happy she's sleeping, for now. There's not much else he can do. He yawns, feeling the last hour and a half swoop down and steal what's left of his own energy. There's mist in his eyes when he looks over at Mal, who is quietly smirking at him. He sits up straighter but there's no point. He knows he must look as tired as he feels.

"S'pose you'll be needing a place to sleep, then?"

Simon hesitates. "There'd be no point to waking River, and we'll be leaving as early as possible tomorrow, so."

"So?"

"So, it looks that way."

Mal nods, still smirking. "C'mon then."

 **.**

Adjacent from River's room, Mal opens the door to what Simon thinks is another room. It's actually a closet, with a shelf full of blankets and towels, and just enough space on the floor for an average sized person to lie down.

Simon looks at Mal. "Are you expecting me to…?"

Mal doesn't look sorry at all as he says, "Sorry for the lack of accommodations. We don't often get visitors like is to stay. 'Sides, i figured you'd wanna be close to your sister. 'Course if it's not to your liking you could always bunk with Jayne, he's got an extra-"

"No, no," Simon protests weakly. "This is...it should be fine."

"Good," Mal nods. "I trust you learned how to make a bed on the floor in boy scouts or some such?"

"I'll manage."

"I'll leave you to it then."

As Mal walks away, he says over his shoulder, "Things tend to get loud here in the mornin' time, so I hope you're not a late sleeper. Anyway, goodnight doctor."

The hallway light shuts off. For a moment Simon stands in the glow of the swinging closet bulb, listening to the creaking, quiet sounds of the building.

 _What an old rickety place_ , he thinks. _Ai ya, how did things turn out this way? I came to take River from here, but it looks like i'm joining her._

He snorts at himself, and sets to making his bed on the floor. Once it's comfortable enough, he lies down, pulls out his phone, sets an alarm for 7 AM.

He falls asleep in minutes, facing River's door.

.


End file.
